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From the poem matthew
“…
it begins outside, under the orange glow of a
lamp post while god smokes like he’s been doing it
since fifteen. Your ted baker suit a black stain in
a crowd of charity shop jumpers and hand-me-down
boots. they’re saying what, him?
and god says yeah, him.”
From the poem philip that plays the feeding of the five thousand into contemporary foodbanks
“…
and you watch, astounded,
yet knowing that the problem with maths
is it just keeps going
just like he does, exhausted, mumbling his mantra:
i’ll feed them,
i’ll feed them.”
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